


lonely eyes

by helplessly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M, also, sort of?? they're in their seventh year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25153267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helplessly/pseuds/helplessly
Summary: She’s spent the last few months trying to stop Ben from forcing his way into her mind. Now he’s constantly in her thoughts and he doesn’t even know it.
Relationships: Ben Gross/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 13
Kudos: 41





	lonely eyes

Devi begins her final year at Hogwarts with a rising feeling of dread.

Usually, seeing the Hogwarts Express and knowing that it would take her home only brought on joy. In her first six years, it didn’t matter that she only really had two friends at the school, or that her fellow Slytherins all seemed to hate her, or that her mother still had reservations about her going to the school and being a witch at all. The moment she casted her first spell, there was an intense rush of emotions that ran through her, leaving her feeling bewildered, amazed, and desperate for more. Practicing magic reminded her that she was special, and Hogwarts was the only place where she was permitted to do that.

This time, though, her gaze lands on the train after she passes through the wall to enter Platform 9 3/4 and she can only think of the last time she stepped off the train, just a few months prior. She’d hugged Fabiola and Eleanor goodbye. Spotted her parents’ faces in the crowd of families welcoming the students home for the summer. Walked with them back through the barrier to the station, chatting gleefully about the year she’d had. Stopped when she realized that her dad wasn’t walking beside her anymore. Cried for help when she saw him falling to the floor and clutching at his chest. 

But help didn’t come fast enough, or maybe it just couldn’t be helped, and she was left without a father. 

Now, Devi stands frozen in front of the train, overcome by the grief and pain that she spent all summer trying to suppress. It’s not until she realizes that people are staring at her and muttering behind their hands – enough of her peers had witnessed her dad’s fall that she was sure the whole school knew now – that she begins to move, lowering her eyes as she hurries toward the train.

There’s a few minutes of awkwardness, peering into compartments and pretending that she can’t hear the whispers following her, before she finds Fabiola and Eleanor. While they’re each in different houses – Devi in Slytherin, Fabiola in Ravenclaw, and Eleanor in Hufflepuff – the three had bonded in their first year due to their mutual loneliness and they’d been close ever since. 

“Oh, Devi,” Eleanor sighs, embracing her in a tight hug as soon as she’s closed the compartment door behind her. She pulls back just enough to look at her, and Devi knows she means well but she can’t meet her eyes when they’re so full of pity, “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” Devi forces out, extracting herself from Eleanor’s arms and taking the seat across from Fabiola, “I’m just glad to see you guys. I didn’t know if I’d be able to come back to school this year.”

“Why wouldn’t you be able to come back to school?” Fabiola asks, sounding offended at the idea.

“My mom didn’t want me to come back. At least not right away,” Devi answers, looking out the window so she doesn’t have to look at her friends’ concern, “She didn’t think I was ready.”

A beat passes before Eleanor says, “Do you think that you’re ready?”

“Yeah,” Devi says, a bit too enthusiastically to be believable, “Yeah, of course.” Her friends are clearly skeptical, shooting worried looks toward each other, so she continues, forcing her lips to spread into a grin, “And besides, this is our final year at Hogwarts! I couldn’t miss any of it.”

This seems to do the trick, as Eleanor’s mouth suddenly falls open and tears spring in her eyes, “Guys, oh my god, this is our last time taking the train to Hogwarts. We need to make it special! We need… we _need_ snacks!” 

She rises suddenly and marches into the hall in search of the sweets trolley. Fabiola lets out a chuckle and shakes her head at her friend’s dramatics, and Devi is grateful that, for the moment, things have returned to normal.

###### 

Things are mostly normal at Hogwarts too. People stare at her for a bit, their eyes full of pity, but eventually, they all realize there’s someone more important to stare at. 

Paxton Hall-Yoshida, star Quidditch keeper and quite possibly the most attractive person to ever go to Hogwarts, had apparently failed his NEWTs and had to return to school for another year. 

When she realizes that means she might finally share a class with him and later spots him in her Defence Against the Dark Arts class, she almost starts to believe that her final year at Hogwarts might be a special one.

On the first day of class, she settles into a seat behind him and lets a dreamy smile form on her lips as she studies him. As usual, they have a new Defence professor this year and he introduces himself as Professor Shapiro and spends half of their first lesson explaining his teaching philosophy. Gaze still on the back of Paxton’s neck, she pays enough attention to hear words like “inquiry” and “student agency” and “learner-centred education”. She decides he’d sound like an interesting teacher if he didn’t have such an affinity for clichés. 

When he starts talking about their first project, she forces herself to finally move her eyes from the boy in front of her.

“Now, given what I’ve said about my pedagogical beliefs, our first project will be a little bit different from what you might be used to,” he states, clapping his hands together once as his eyes scan the students, “Since you’re mature students that surely have your own interests and goals and ideas about what will help your future, I’ll be taking a step back and giving you more control in your learning. You’ll decide on an area of Defence to research yourselves, create a plan for extending your knowledge on the subject, and then carry out that plan and present your new learning to me and the rest of the class by Christmas break.”

Ideas already begin racing through Devi’s mind. A good grade in Defence Against the Dark Arts is essential if she wants to be considered for a job at the Ministry of Magic. She needs to use this freedom to set herself apart from the others.

“Now, since we know that teamwork makes the dream work, you’ll be completing this project in pairs,” Professor Shapiro continues with a small self-satisfied smile and she has to stop herself from rolling her eyes, “The pairs will be as follows…”

He starts reading names off a long piece of parchment and she prays to be paired with Paxton. Months of working together, preferably alone in some poorly lit area of the school, dazzling him with her wits, giving him a high-five after they aced the project and maybe even pulling him in for a celebratory hug, getting to feel those glorious Quidditch muscles underneath-

“Devi Vishwakumar and Ben Gross.”

She lets her head fall onto the desk in front of her and groans.

Of course, it has to be Ben Gross. She knows that hoping for Paxton was wishful thinking, but couldn’t it have been literally anybody else? She’d decided that she hated Ben in her first year at Hogwarts when he answered a question in History of Magic that she couldn’t and made some snide remark about Muggle-born students. Since then, they’ve been at each other’s throats constantly. The fact that he’s _also_ a Slytherin and _also_ aiming for a Ministry job means he’s virtually inescapable in the castle. Everywhere Devi goes, he seems to be there, waiting to irritate her. They argue in each of their classes, shoot hexes at each other in the halls, and even sometimes physically brawl in the common room. 

She lifts her head to see Ben trying to ask for a different partner, but Professor Shapiro has already continued down the list. Letting out a great sigh, she collects her things, sends one last wistful look at Paxton (who’s been paired with Zoe, _of course_ ), and sinks into the seat next to Ben. 

“Let’s just get this over with, Gross,” she sighs, “What were you thinking of studying?”

They argue for a few minutes about which topic to choose, flipping through their books and sneering at each other, before Ben says, “I’ve got it. Occlumency.”

“Yeah, okay, except that neither of us are Legilimens, genius,” Devi dismisses, continuing to search through her textbook for ideas.

“We’ll practice that at the same time,” Ben says with a shrug, “Come on, I’ll need to be a skilled Occlumens for when I’m Minister for Magic.”

Honestly, it could probably work. Both occlumency and legilimency are difficult types of magic, but all of her professors have told her that she’s an extraordinary witch. And though she’ll never admit it, Ben isn’t a terrible wizard either. But, still, she resists, “I’m not letting you in my head, Gross.”

“Why? Got something to hide?” Ben smirks, and there’s a gleam in his eye that makes her hands ball into fists, “I already know about your obsession with me, David, there’s no reason to worry.”

“That’s not- Ugh, fine! Whatever,” she huffs, rising from her chair and crossing her arms over her chest, “Let’s go run it by Shapiro then.”

Ben proposes the idea to the professor, all smooth-talking and confident when he originally objects that neither occlumency nor legilimency are typically covered in the Defence curriculum. Devi stands silently next to him and tries not to roll her eyes when Ben begins his speech about how this is essential to his future career as Minister for Magic and _how can he be an open-minded leader if his mind is left open to influence from dark magic?_

She has to choke down a laugh, but it seems to win Professor Shapiro over and he writes their choice down on his piece of parchment. 

###### 

In the days after, they spend most of their Defence Against the Dark Arts periods in the library, poring over books that offer advice on how to navigate the minds of others and how to shield your own mind from invasion. They take notes on the history and methodology of legilimency and occlumency and bicker the entire time.

“It states here that occulumency requires the same sort of strength that’s needed to resist the Imperius curse,” Ben reads from his book one afternoon, before he shoots a cold smirk at her, “Should we start with practicing that first then?”

“Go ahead, Gross. Imperio me,” Devi says with a sickly-sweet smile, “I would love nothing more than to see your ass rot in Azkaban.”

“Oh, David, we both know you’d just love to see my ass, regardless of its whereabouts.”

They continue on like that for a week, reading and arguing, before Devi grows bored and suggests that they just try it and see what happens. They need somewhere more private than the library, so they tell this to Professor Shapiro before they head outside, settling down beside the Great Lake. 

“Alright then, I suppose we should just get started,” Ben says, and they argue for a moment about who will try which role first before it’s decided that Ben will try to enter her mind first, while she tries to block him.

He sits cross-legged in front of her and pulls his wand from his pocket, pointing it at her. She closes her eyes and waits for him to attempt the spell, but he reminds her that eye contact is necessary for the spell to work. It’s unnerving when she opens her eyes and meets his gaze. She’s never looked at him this long without sneering at him before. 

He raises his wand and takes a breath. “Legilimens.” 

And nothing happens.

She snorts, “You suck, Gross. Here, give me a try, neither of us will learn anything about occlumency like this.”

“No, just-” He’s visibly frustrated, his hand clenching harder around the wand he holds in front of her, “Just give me a moment.”

She can’t argue too much when he has his wand trained on her like that. She huffs and sits back on her hands as he tries again, certain that nothing will happen. He tries with no success for a few more minutes, and then his eyebrows furrow and his voice hardens, and something feels different. 

He’s not strong enough to pass into her mind unnoticed, but she’s not strong enough to stop the intrusion. 

For a moment, there’s a cold darkness, and then it’s like she’s watching her memories on a film. She assumes this is what Ben’s witnessing too. There’s the whistle of a train, a scarlet flash of the Hogwarts Express, and then she’s watching the life leave her dad’s body again. 

She’s shaking and already standing up to leave when she comes out of it. Ben rushes to his feet in front of her, his face pale.

“Devi, I didn’t mean to-” he starts, eyes moving quickly over her face.

“Shut up, Ben,” she snaps, turning away and beginning her ascent back to the castle.

“I couldn’t control it, I just-” he continues, and she can feel him following closely behind her.

“Shut up, Ben! Just forget it!” she whirls around to face him, fingers wrapping around her wand in her pocket, “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

He nods hurriedly, looking paler than she’s ever seen him, and starts again, “I’m sor-”

She whips her wand out in a second, points it at his chest, and calls, “Flipendo!”

His mouth falls open as he’s knocked back away from her. The power of the jinx is strong enough to send him back to the edge of the lake, where he teeters for a moment before he falls backward, plunging into the water. 

Normally, in a moment like this, she would have stuck around to laugh at him and possibly engage in a proper duel, but she’s still shaking and she can’t seem to stop hearing the train whistle in her ears. So, she turns on her heel, continuing her trip back to the castle. She makes it halfway back before she bumps into Professor Shapiro, who has presumably come to check on their progress. His eyes move between her hardened expression to her clenched wand to Ben, who’s just started to pull himself out of the water.

She assumes that he’s heard about her and Ben’s violent tendencies from the other professors, as he asks no questions, simply sighing instead and looking more disappointed than shocked. “Detention,” he says, shaking his head, “For the both of you. And 10 points from Slytherin.”

###### 

In the days leading up to their detention, Devi and Ben work in an uncharacteristic silence. They’re back in the library, the both of them still too shaken by their last attempt at legilimency to try again. So they read and take notes in silence, the only sound coming from their quills as they scratch against the parchment. Devi can tell that he wants to say something, but she refuses to listen to him try to apologize for her dad’s death, so she stares at her books and keeps her jaw clenched shut for days.

Professor Shapiro asks them to stay late at the end of Defence class on a Friday, tells them that they will be serving their detention that evening, and instructs them to meet him at the Quidditch Pitch after dinner.

She eats nervously and then she’s trudging along to the pitch, maintaining a fair distance from Ben, who walks in front of her. When she reaches the pitch, Professor Shapiro is already there, and her stomach flips when she sees what lies at his feet. Two broomsticks, a bowl full of soapy water, and some sponges. She hasn’t flown on a broomstick in years and all of her classes at Hogwarts had gone terribly. She glances at Ben briefly and notices he’s looking pale. Flying was the only class that the two hadn’t excelled in.

“Miss. Vishwakumar, Mr. Gross, thank you for coming,” Professor Shapiro starts, sounding tired, “Quidditch season will be starting soon and the keepers have apparently been complaining that the birds have left a certain amount of… waste on the goal posts. You’ll be scrubbing them clean. No magic will be permitted. Any questions?”

“Professor Shapiro, this is- this is just _unsanitary_. We could get sick!” Ben objects as he looks up to the goal posts, probably trying to figure out how likely his death would be if he fell from that height, “Can’t you just have us write lines or something? Send us off into the Forbidden Forest, perhaps?”

“Perfect,” Professor Shapiro continues, ignoring Ben’s protests, “I’ve forgotten to check the Quidditch practice schedule to ensure the pitch will be clear tonight. I’ll be back in a moment. You two can get started. And I’ll have your wands, please, to make sure that the rules are followed and that you two do no more harm to each other.”

Ben grumbles as he hands over his wand, but she offers hers without comment, eyes still locked on the broomstick in front of her. The professor starts back toward the castle, calling over his shoulder to remind them to get to work and she lifts a shaking hand over one of the brooms in front of her. It rises unsteadily until it’s high enough for her to grasp it, then she swings a leg over, takes a deep breath and pushes off the ground. A foot in the air, she struggles to maintain her balance for a moment before her broom steadies and it feels, just a for a second, like she won’t slip right off the side. 

She reaches down to pick up the bucket of soapy water and sponges in one hand, rises a little further off the ground, and turns to look at him over her shoulder, “Pick up the pace, Gross.”

He’s been standing over the broomstick still, looking down at it with his mouth hanging slightly open. At her taunt though, his jaw snaps shut, and he hurries to mount his broom and fly shakily to the closer set of goal posts. 

When they reach the posts, there’s a moment of awkward maneuvering, trying to figure out how to hold the bucket and the sponges when neither of them feel comfortable having both of their hands off the broom. But then Devi realizes she can detach the handle of the bucket and reattach it so that it hangs around the post, and she starts scrubbing in silence with one hand, the other holding tightly to her broom.

It’s not too horrible of a punishment, really. The broomsticks are terrifying, but her mother has made sure that Devi’s done plenty of cleaning at home, and she’s had to clean up much grosser things than bird droppings. Ben, on the other hand, comes from a family of rich purebloods, and she bets he’s never even seen a sponge before. The combination of the cleaning, the height, and perhaps the fact that he didn’t even really do anything to deserve the detention this time, lead to him complaining the entire time, muttering constantly about hygiene and personal protective equipment and _if his dad knew what he was doing right this moment-_

“God, do you ever just shut up?” Devi finally groans, breaking her silence, “Go complain to your rich daddy and see what happens then.”

He narrows his eyes at her and says nothing, turning his attention back to his sponge, but she can almost hear him thinking it.

 _At least I have a dad._

He’s not horrible enough to say it, but she’s certain the thought came to his mind automatically. Somehow, it’s worse that he doesn’t say it. She knows that she’s fatherless, but in this moment, Ben has just decided that she’s weak as well. Too weak to handle his taunting. 

Fury grows within her and she’s still for a long moment, squeezing her sponge tighter in her fist until soap runs down her forearm. And then, in true Devi fashion, she snaps.

In her rage, she makes two mistakes. 

The first mistake is when she overestimates Ben’s flying skills. 

Whipping her sponge away, she wraps both hands around her broomstick and shoots forward to knock into him. She plans only to bruise him or give him a scare, but with his loose grip and his poor balance in the air, she knocks him clean off the broomstick. 

_Fuck,_ she thinks as she watches him fall through the air. _Fuck, I didn’t mean to kill him._

Her second mistake is when she overestimates her own flying skills.

For a second, she panics, digging in her pocket for her wand so that she can freeze him in the air. Remembering that Professor Shapiro has them, she curses and quickly pushes down on her broomstick to descend with him. Reaching his level, she extends both of her arms out to catch him, and-

Falls off her own broomstick as well. For a moment, they’re both falling, and then they land on the ground with a sickening crack, and the world goes dark.

###### 

When she finally wakes, everything around her is a sterile kind of white.

She gasps and sits up suddenly, remembering hospital beds and defibrillators and flatlining heart monitors. But she’s in the hospital wing, not a Muggle hospital, and it’s only Ben that lies in the bed beside hers.

“Morning, sunshine,” he says gruffly, and she lets her gaze land on him as her heart rate returns to normal. He looks exhausted, his eyes seeming to be unable to remain fully open. He’s also covered in bruises, and as she settles back down against the bed and feels pain burst all over, she realizes that she must have quite a few as well. 

Devi opens her mouth to say something, but she’s interrupted by the school’s Matron.

“Oh, good, you’re both awake,” the woman says as she approaches them, studying the bruises on their skin and prodding at their limbs, “Countless broken bones I’ve had to heal. Concussions are going to be harder to treat. Amazing that you’re both still alive. Professor Shapiro has instructed me to find out immediately just _what on earth_ happened on that pitch.”

Devi feels her throat go dry, wondering what kind of punishment will face her after she admits to what she’s done. She’s lost tons of house points and suffered through many detentions over the years for the fights that she’s started with Ben, but she hasn’t done anything this bad before.

But Ben’s lying smoothly before she can open her mouth. “There was this crazy bird,” he started, looking directly at the Matron with his blue eyes suddenly wide, “I guess it had a nest near the goal posts. You know how protective some birds get when you come too close to their nest. It wouldn’t stop diving at me, and I’m not very strong on a broomstick, and it knocked me off balance. Devi tried to help me, but she lost her balance too, and, well.”

She holds her breath as she glances at the Matron, wondering if she’ll buy the bullshit story. But Ben’s always been smooth and charming – in a way that has usually been irritating to Devi – and it’s clear she believes him when she tuts and shakes her head. 

“Been telling the headmaster for years that students shouldn’t be on those broomsticks. At the very least, protective gear should be required. It’s a miracle nobody’s died yet,” she lets out a long exhale and lifts a clipboard from a table behind her, making some marks on it before turning back to them, “I’ve got to talk to Professor Shapiro then. You two will likely be here the weekend to ensure an appropriate recovery. Get some rest now, please.”

She gives them a look that suggests it’s really more of a command than a request and hurries from the hospital wing. 

Devi lets out a long exhale and settles back against her pillows, letting her eyes slide closed, more than happy to follow the Matron’s demands.

But Ben’s talking again. “Listen, Devi, I’m really sor-”

“Shut up, Ben,” she warns, turning her head to glare at him.

“I know, I’ll let you rest, I just-”

“Ben, please. Quit trying to apologize to me. I don’t want you to be sorry for me,” she says, meeting his eye with her jaw set, hoping that he’ll understand. She needs him to treat her the way he normally does, even if it means that he’s horrible to her. He nods silently, finally understanding, so she continues, “And anyway, I’m the one that should be apologizing, I guess. Nearly got us both killed.” 

“I guess you’re right,” he says after a moment, looking thoughtful, “Man, I thought my dad was going to be upset about me having to clean up bird shit. Just wait until I tell him that one of my classmates tried to straight-up murder me.”

She’s about to roll her eyes when her gaze catches on a dimple on his cheek and she realizes he’s joking. She’s never noticed his dimples before. Really, she can’t remember a time when they just genuinely joked with each other, free of any hidden malice. It’s almost pleasant, seeing his lips in a smile instead of his usual smirk.

So, she lets herself smile as well as she fakes a dramatic sigh, “And it would’ve been so easy to make it look like an accident. What a wasted opportunity.”

“Maybe this was Professor Shapiro’s plan all along. Just get us on some broomsticks and hope we’ll off each other or ourselves. Somebody must’ve told him how awful we are at flying,” he pauses, his smile suddenly growing into a grin that makes his eyes seem impossibly bright, “Remember when you tried out for the Quidditch team?”

Her cheeks burn at the memory. She tried out for Slytherin’s Quidditch team in fourth year, thinking that she might be able to get some attention from Paxton during the matches against Gryffindor if she made the team. Of course, it had gone terribly. She flew around unsteadily for a few minutes and then promptly crashed into Eric Perkins, who had been watching the tryouts from the stands. Since then, he’s complained about the incident at nearly every single Quidditch match. She lets out a snort, “Eric definitely remembers.”

He laughs and the sound surprises her, but she doesn’t have much time to think about it before he’s recalling when he ended up in the lake during their second year of flying classes and she’s tilting her head back to laugh as well.

They spend a few more minutes like that, laughing and lightly teasing each other about their mutual lack of competency on broomsticks before the Matron returns and sternly reminds them about their need for rest. 

###### 

Something between them shifts in the days that they spend in the hospital wing. He’s kinder to her, and the change in his attitude doesn’t seem to be from pity. She finds herself snapping at him less often as well, as his presence more often brings on laughter instead of anger now. They bicker and poke fun at each other constantly still, of course, but their insults always seem to be accompanied by a smile now. 

Once they’re allowed to leave the hospital wing and return to classes, they’re both eager to continue practicing for their Defence Against the Dark Arts assignment. They decide they’re ready to move on from the books again and they spend their afternoons sitting across from each other by the lake or in an unoccupied classroom if the autumn wind is too strong. 

She never thought to worry about how intimate the experience would be. They take turns practicing legilimency and occlumency and they get to know more about each other than she ever thought they would. When he manages to get into her mind, he sees memories from her life that she thought she’d forgotten. And she sees parts of him that are hidden to everybody else. Sees his family’s house elf picking him up from the train station year after year. Sees his father close his office doors on him. Sees him walking around a cold and empty mansion. 

Their memories are accompanied by the stories that they tell each other after. There’s no point in trying to hide things from him when her mind would present them to him unbidden anyway, so she tells him things she’s never told anybody else, and he does the same. They sit on the grass or perch on desks and talk about their childhoods, their families, their friends, their dreams, and everything in between.

It becomes oddly easy to talk to him.

Regardless of how many times they practice, though, it never becomes easier to look into his eyes. As neither of them are masters of legilimency by any means, it’s essential that their gazes meet for the spell to work. But she often finds herself hesitating, eyes straying on her wand or looking over his shoulder.

“Eye contact,” he has to remind her often, voice soft. And each and every time, his eyes are startlingly, beautifully, unbelievably blue.

It makes her head spin, though she blames it on the effects of practicing legilimency. 

By the time winter comes around, they’re both able to perform legilimency and occlumency quite well. Most of the time, they’re able to block each other out of their minds now, but they still spend a significant amount of their class time sharing stories and coaxing laughs out of each other. When it’s time to present what they’ve learned to Professor Shapiro and the class, she worries about being able to believably demonstrate the full extent of what they’ve been able to do, but Professor Shapiro is full of praise for them and Ben sends her a smile that makes her cheeks flush.

###### 

She’s been spending so much time looking at Ben’s eyes that she’s started seeing them in places where they’re not. All around her, she sees that beautiful shade of blue. It’s in the clear afternoon sky that’s charmed over the Great Hall, the dainty flowers that grow in the greenhouses, the vials filled with draught of peace that she can occasionally persuade the Matron to give her. It’s almost funny. She’s spent the last few months trying to stop Ben from forcing his way into her mind. Now he’s constantly in her thoughts and he doesn’t even know it. 

So, when she’s tipsy off firewhiskey on the comfiest couch in the Slytherin common room and the bottle is suddenly snatched from her fingers, she almost convinces herself that the blue-eyed thief in front of her isn’t him. But he laughs at her expression of indignation and she knows that it is.

“Hey! That’s mine,” she grumbles, swinging her hand around at him as he settles onto the couch next to her, “Give it back! That’s my Christmas present.”

She bought it for herself on the last trip to Hogsmeade, knowing that she would need it to get through the holiday season. It’s sad spending the holidays alone, but she chose to stay at the castle this year, thinking it would be easier. Home just reminds of her dad and she’s sure her mom will be happier spending the holiday with her cousin.

“Well, it’s not like you’re going to drink it all yourself,” he argues as he takes a swig from the bottle, smiling at the way she frowns, “And anyway, you didn’t even get me a Christmas present. Least you could do is share.”

“You didn’t get me a present either,” she objects, wrenching the bottle back out of his grasp.

“Sure, I did,” he says with an easy grin, “I got you a great mark on that Defence assignment.”

“We got a great mark on that Defence assignment. As Shapiro says, teamwork made that dream work, thank you very much,” she rolls her eyes, though a smile tugs at her lips at the sight of his grin, “Though you weren’t as terrible of a partner as I’d originally thought you would be.”

“Ah, only the highest compliment. You sure know how to make a man blush, David,” he says, voice playful.

She tries to fight the blush from blooming on her own face at his comments, wordlessly offering him the bottle of firewhiskey instead. 

They fall into an easy conversation after that, as open with each other as they were in their Defence sessions. She tells him that she was scared to go home and celebrate the holidays without her dad. He tells her that his parents sent him an owl to tell him that they would be in Italy over the break. They stick to happier subjects after that, passing the bottle of firewhiskey between them and growing progressively tipsier.

He watches her in silence when she tilts her head back to finish the last swig of the bottle. He looks at her for a long time, his expression unreadable, and she finds herself wishing they that their Defence assignment wasn’t over yet so she could get a peek inside his mind.

“What are you thinking about?” she says instead, surprised by how shaky her voice sounds.

He’s quiet for a moment longer, eyes scanning her face. Then he nods to where her wand sticks out of her pocket, “See for yourself.”

She raises her eyebrows at him, uncertain, but he only nods. 

Turning toward him on the couch, she pulls her wand from his pocket and holds it between them. Eyes lingering on the wand, she opens her mouth to recite the incantation when his hand is suddenly below her chin, his touch feather-light. He murmurs something about eye contact, and she lifts her gaze to look into his eyes. As always, they’re impossibly blue. 

“Legilimens.”

For a moment, she’s sure she’s done something wrong because she only sees herself, just moments ago, lips wrapped around the bottle of firewhiskey, head tilted back to expose her neck. Then the picture morphs and she sees herself plucking grass by the lake and grinning over her shoulder. Rolling her eyes and smiling fondly in an empty classroom. Covered in bruises and laughing in bed in the hospital wing. And they’re not just from the last few months, the memories go back even further. She sees a younger version of herself grinning cockily and bragging about her OWLs. Chatting with Fabiola and Eleanor a distance away. Rubbing sleep from her eyes and crouching over her textbooks in the common room. 

There’s a fondness attached to the memories and her body fills with warmth.

When he eventually pushes her out of his mind, she stays silent for a long moment, processing what she’d seen in his memories, what she’d felt through his emotions.

She must be silent for too long because he starts to pull away, his mouth opening to apologize, “Devi, I’m sor-” 

“Shut up, Ben,” she breathes, no heat in her words this time, already leaning to catch his lips with hers. 

The kiss is soft. Tentative. Exploring. He tastes sweeter than the firewhiskey and even more addicting, and she finds herself wishing that she would’ve stopped pushing Ben from her thoughts earlier.

**Author's Note:**

> oof okay, i hope that was decent!!! just some quick notes here.
> 
> i'm deeply sorry if there are any errors in terms of hogwarts and the wizarding world. it's been a while since i've reread the books and i tried to do my research as i went, but i'm sure i missed something. the whole legilimency/occlumency thing is probably iffy but i needed to get a bit creative with it for the story to work out how i wanted it to.
> 
> also, i know that the show jokes about how the girls are all hufflepuff (one of my fav lines), but i just... don't agree. sorry lol feel free to share your opinion.
> 
> also let me know how you felt about the fic in general!!! i always love feedback. <3


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